Kätzchen
by LittleMissSpitfire
Summary: Klink forms an unlikely friendship with a kitten. What adventures await Klink and his new companion?
1. Smitten with a Kitten

_A/N: This is the first fan fiction story I've posted in a long time, and I wrote it just as a diversion from a longer, darker, more intense Adam-12/The Poseidon Adventure crossover story I'm also writing._

_I'll try to post new chapters pretty regularly, but please don't get impatient if it takes awhile._  
><em>Please Read and Review! I'm always looking to improve my writing. :)<em>

* * *

><p><em>Luftwaffe Oberst <em>Wilhelm Klink strode happily out of an apartment building while whistling (off key) the song "Lili Marlene," happy thoughts running through his head. He had had dinner with a young lady who had taken a fancy to him, and then they had spent the rest of the evening chatting. She had proved to be an excellent conversationalist, (along with an excellent kisser) and Klink had thoroughly enjoyed the evening.

Klink hurriedly crossed the snow-covered sidewalk to his car while trying not to freeze to death in the extremely cold temperature. He chuckled: They sure had been warm up in Irmina Freud's room. Still thinking happy thoughts, Klink opened the car door and slid into the icicle of a seat. As he reached out to shut the door, however, he stopped as he heard laughter drifting across the freezing wind. Looking out of his windshield, he noticed a group of several boys in the distance kicking at some object.

_It's too small to be a ball, _Klink thought, leaning forward and squinting through his monocle to try and make out what it was. Curious, Klink decided to drive a little closer.  
>As he pulled up where the boys were playing, he noticed one of them shout a warning to the others, and they quickly scattered as he exited the staff car and walked over. And then he saw it.<p>

A tiny, fluffy orange-and-white kitten huddled against a wall. _It can't be more than nine or ten weeks old, _Klink decided, as he bent down to examine the shivering kitten. As he reached toward it, it stretched its nose toward him, and then raised its brilliant blue eyes to meet his. Klink caught his breath as he met the kitten's mesmerizing gaze. _It's like it's looking through a window to the other side, _Klink thought_. Is it deciding whether I'm trustworthy?_ The kitten's eyes held no trace of fear, which was surprising considering the abuse it had endured before Klink came to its rescue.

Finally, the kitten broke the stare and, as Klink watched, crawled slowly toward him. Stopping next to Klink's foot, it sat down and curled its tail around itself for warmth. Slowly lifting its eyes up to meet Klink's for the second time, it slowly half-blinked and lay down close to Klink's foot.

Klink gently reached down and scooped up the kitten, holding it close to him to warm the kitten up, as it was still shivering. Without a second thought, Klink turned and headed back toward his car, still holding the kitten securely.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, back at Stalag 13, Hogan paced in front of the stove, holding a cup of now lukewarm coffee in his hands. Newkirk and Carter were engaging in a game of gin, with one box of cigarettes as the stakes. LeBeau was sitting next to Newkirk, watching, and Kinch was down in the tunnels by the radio. Carter was the first to break the silence.<p>

"Gin."

Newkirk rolled his eyes as he threw down his cards.  
>"Cor. That's the fourth game in a row you've won tonight!"<p>

Carter grinned as he reached for his prize. "You win some, you lose some."

Newkirk snorted. "That's original."

"It's not whether you win or lose that counts."

Newkirk rolled his eyes for the second time. "Yeah, well, have you 'eard: 'Better to keep silent and let people think you are a fool, than to open your mouth and remove all the doubt'?"

"Oh, look who's talk—"

"Colonel?" Kinch broke in, coming up the ladder with a slip of paper in his hand.

"Yeah, Kinch?" Hogan asked, taking a sip from the coffee cup, before frowning down at the cold coffee.

"Irmina Freud just radioed us. She got the information from Klink that we needed. She also mentioned something else," Kinch replied, glancing down at the paper he held.

"What's that?"

Kinch quirked the side of his mouth up in a slight smile. "I wrote it down. These are her exact words: 'Please do NOT send me to ever get information from Klink again. I would rather be tortured by the Gestapo. That man is worse than a bald octopus.'"

Newkirk choked on his coffee. Hogan chuckled.

"Message received. Tell her not to worry, she won't have to endure that torture anymore," Hogan said, wryly.

As Kinch turned to go back down into the tunnel, Olsen spoke up from his place at the door.

"Here comes our bald octopus now."

* * *

><p>Schultz opened the car door for Klink and saluted as the Kommandant swept past him. Grumbling about the lack of thanks he received, Schultz climbed into the staff car and drove it back to the motor pool.<p>

Klink was halfway into his office, kitten in tow, when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"How was she, Colonel? Schultz told me you had a hot date tonight. Was she really that gorgeous?" Hogan asked, wryly, nudging Klink with an elbow as he waggled an eyebrow.

"Oh, yes Hogan. That gorgeous," Klink affirmed, forgetting to remind Hogan of the no-prisoners-out-of-barracks-at-night rule, grinning as he remembered the evening.

"Say, Colonel, what's that you're holding there under your coat?" Hogan asked, noticing the lump under Klink's coat.

Klink frowned. He hadn't intended to have Hogan see the kitten. Why, he might get labeled as Ol' Softy instead of the Iron Colonel! He attempted to hurry into his office before Hogan questioned further, but he was too late. Klink watched nervously as Hogan reached for the coat to peek at the object.

"Awwwww…"

Klink rolled his eyes as Hogan gently pulled the kitten out of Klink's coat. Klink had to admit he took a small amount of pleasure watching Hogan's smirk soften into an expression of pure delight as the kitten rubbed it's face against Hogan's, and Klink grinned when Hogan heartily laughed as the kitten swatted Hogan's nose.

"Colonel, where'd you find this ball of fluff?" Hogan asked, holding the kitten with one hand as he stroked it with the other.

"On my way back from Fräulein Freud's apartment. Some boys were abusing it, and I rescued it," Klink explained.

Hogan glanced at Klink out of the corner of his eyes and gave him a wry grin. "You old softy."

Klink grimaced.

* * *

><p>Hogan strode briskly back into the barracks and poured himself a cup of coffee.<p>

"Klink's sure not going to like it when he finds out that Irmina has left town," Hogan smiled as he took a sip of (finally) hot coffee.

"He really liked her, huh?" Kinch grinned.

"Kinch, 'ave you ever seen Irmina?" Newkirk asked.

"No."

"That explains why you even asked," Newkirk informed him.

LeBeau chuckled and slapped Newkirk's arm knowingly.

"Besides, have you ever seen Klink not like a girl?" Hogan asked, chuckling.

"I've seen Klink not like a girl!" Carter piped up.

At the men's questioning looks, Carter elaborated. "Burkhalter's sister. You know, Gertrude Linkmeyer."

LeBeau snorted. "Gertrude Linkmeyer is NOT a GIRL."

Suddenly, Kinch noticed something. "Colonel, did Carter give you a shave today?"

"No, why? Do I need one?" Hogan reached up to feel his face.

"You have a cut on your nose."

"Hey!" Carter exclaimed, frowning.

"Oh, that!" Hogan chuckled, touching a hand to his nose, and drawing it away to see if it was bleeding. "Oh, Klink just got himself a kitten. It decided to do a Carter special on me."

"KLINK has a kitten? Carter said, surprised, deciding to ignore the reference to his skills as a barber.

"Old Blood and guts?" LeBeau asked, just as surprised as Carter.

"It must be a different Klink," Kinch decided.

"No, it's our Klink. He rescued it from some boys who were playing rough with it," Hogan explained.

Newkirk shook his head. "I didn't think Klink had it in 'im to show compassion for a kitten."

Hogan shrugged. "Well, it's only a few weeks old, and Klink was in a good mood. It _is _cute. It would melt Hochstetter's heart." He considered a moment, then revised his previous statement. "Well, maybe not Hochstetter's. He doesn't even _have _a heart."

* * *

><p>Klink, now in his quarters, sat on his couch watching the kitten play with a ball of yarn he had found in Helga's desk. <em>What do I do with this kitten? <em>He asked himself. Klink wasn't even a real big cat lover; However, this particular one had just seemed to pull at his heartstrings the moment he saw it. Maybe it was those gorgeous eyes…

Klink knew he wanted to keep the kitten. _But a kitten doesn't belong in a prison camp! _Common sense screamed at him. And Hochstetter would flip if he found out that Klink was keeping a pet cat in Stalag 13. Klink snickered at the mental image of Hochstetter flipping, then remembered what one of Hochstetter's tantrums sounded like, and stopped laughing.  
>If Klink did keep the kitten, he would have to keep it hidden when the Gestapo came by.<p>

Klink finally slammed his fist down on the edge of the couch, making the kitten jump. He knew he had already decided deep down to keep the kitten, and common sense wasn't going to win this argument. But it wouldn't do to let the kitten run around the compound at night. Especially when it was this young. _I'm going to have to have… a sandbox?!_

Going to the door, Klink cracked it open and called for Schultz; Then he scrounged around for a box.

"You called,_ Herr Kommandant?" _Schultz asked, coming in and shutting the door quickly behind him before the freezing air blew in.

"See if you can find a box around here, Schultz," Klink ordered. "But if you breathe a word to anyone that I have a sandbox in my quarters for a kitten, you'll be at the Russian Front so fast you won't know what hit you."

Schultz didn't know if he had heard correctly. "A sandbox, _Herr Kommandant?" _

"Yes! I can't have a ten-week old kitten run all over the compound at night! Now shut up and find a box!"

"_Jawhol, Herr Kommandant_."

A few minutes later, Schultz spoke up. "I have found a box, _Herr Kommandant_."

"Let's see it," Klink said, coming over to where Schultz was standing.

Schultz held up Klink's suitcase.

"_Dumkopf!_" Klink cried. "Not my suitcase!"

Finally, when they found a wine crate that would be suitable, Klink sent Schultz to get some sand from the compound.

Schultz went to the door, then turned around and came back.

"What is it, Schultz?" Klink asked impatiently.

"What do I use to bring the sand inside?" Schultz wondered.

"I don't know, find someth—" Klink stopped mid sentence as he found something. "Use this."

Klink pulled Schultz's helmet off his head and handed it to him.

Schultz looked dismayed. "But-but-but it's freezing outside…"

"You asked! Now do it!" Klink ordered.

"_Jawhol, Herr Kommandant_."

On the way back in, however, as Schultz hurried through the door, the kitten scampered across his path, causing Schultz to take a tumble. He landed face first in his helmet full of sand.  
>When Schultz looked up, he noticed the kitten in front of him, staring at him. And he could have sworn the kitten was laughing at him.<p>

After some more name-calling, Klink sent Schultz out for more sand. Finally, they got enough to fill the wine crate.

"Well, aren't you proud, Schultz?" Klink asked, as he looked at the sandbox sitting next to the sink in his bathroom.

Schultz considered a moment. "_Nein, Herr Kommandant. _It is not one of my best creations."

Klink shook his fist. "Diss-missed, Schultz."

Schultz saluted and lumbered out.

_That will do for tonight, _Klink thought. Before he shut off the light to finally get to bed, Klink glanced at the clock. _1:00. _Klink grimaced. This was ridiculous. _What have I gotten myself into? I'm going to be the laughing-stock of the Third Reich. _

As he turned around to glance at the kitten, he didn't have any trouble finding it in the dark. Those glowing eyes told him exactly where it was.

"_Gute Nacht, Kätzchen."_

* * *

><p>A few minutes later, as he drifted off to sleep, Klink felt something small jump on the bed, and smiled as the kitten snuggled under the covers next to him.<p>

Klink decided it was worth the risk of being a laughing-stock. Though he might regret it in the morning.

* * *

><p><em>Just in case you're wondering, the reason I put 'sandbox' instead of 'litterbox' was because kitty litter wasn't invented until 1947; People used either sand, dirt, shredded newspaper, etc. if their cat was indoor.<em>


	2. There goes the Neighborhood

Despite the late night, Klink arose early the next morning. He was pleased to note that the kitten had used the sand box instead of his rug for its necessities. Klink went to the door and called for Schultz; but instead of the hefty guard, Langenscheidt came.

"Langenscheidt, I thought I called for Schultz," Klink frowned.

"You did, _Herr Kommandant, _but Sergeant Schultz reported on sick call this morning," Langenscheidt explained.

"Whaaat? Sick call?" Klink asked. "Why?"

"He has a cold. He said he caught it last night when he was outside without his helmet," The guard told Klink.

"Oh," Klink said, feeling slightly guilty, as he realized that he was the cause of Schultz's sickness. "Well then, Langenscheidt, I have a job for you. Have you ever cleaned out a sandbox before?"

* * *

><p>In Barracks Two, Hogan's men were also already up. They were gathered around a map inside the tunnel, planning their next job.<p>

"So we'll go out tonight, plant the charges here," Hogan pointed to an area on the map, "then we'll detonate them, and come right back to camp."

"Easy peasy," Newkirk said, taking a drag on his cigarette.

"No sweat," Carter agreed.

"We've done that so many times I could do it in my sleep," LeBeau joked.

Hogan chuckled, then grew serious. "Just remember, no matter how many times we've done something, we can't get lazy and start throwing caution to the wind. We always have to be on guard."

"_O__ui, _Colonel," LeBeau agreed.

"Right, guv'nor."

Kinch and Carter nodded their agreement also.

"Okay, that's settled. Now let's get upstairs. Roll call's in a few minutes," Hogan smiled, giving Carter a gentle shove toward the ladder.

* * *

><p>After roll call, Klink hurried towards his office, but before he reached the steps, Hogan's voice interrupted him for the second time in as many days.<p>

"_Kommandant_?"

"What is it, Hogan?" Klink asked impatiently.

"My men were interested in seeing your kitten. Is that alright with you, Colonel?"

"Well, I suppose it can't harm anything. Alright, your men may see the kitten," Klink decided.

Hogan waved his men over. "Thanks _Kommandant._"

"You're welcome, Hogan," Klink returned Hogan's salute and continued to his office.

As the men joined him, Hogan asked, "Did you get those sleeping pills?"

"Yes," LeBeau answered, handing a small box to Hogan.

"Good. We'll swap the sleeping pills for Klink's vitamins. This is one night we don't want him awake to pull a surprise roll call on us," Hogan said, tucking the box into his jacket.

When they entered Klink's quarters, with Langenscheidt trailing along behind them, the kitten was curled up on the sofa, taking a nap.

Carter was the first to go to the kitten. "You know, I had a cat like this back in Bullfrog. I called him Crazy Cat, because he would always try to climb the curtains when I would sneak him inside. Mom would always throw him out if she caught him inside. She liked cats fine, she just didn't want him spoiling our good furniture. I remember once, Crazy Cat used our carpet—"

"Carter!" Newkirk yelled. "Shut. Up."

"If we want your life story we'll ask for it," LeBeau rolled his eyes.

"Don't call us, we'll call you," Kinch deadpanned.

Carter looked offended. "I just wanted to tell you about Crazy Cat!"

"Well, we're not interested in your ruddy cat. Besides, what kind of bloke would call 'is cat 'Crazy Cat'?" Newkirk shot back.

Langenscheidt looked lost as to what to do about the bickering prisoners, and cast a pleading glance at Colonel Hogan for help.

"Fellas!" Hogan cried. "We're here to see Klink's kitten, not start World War 3. One war at a time is plenty."

Langenscheidt gave Hogan a grateful look, and went back to his position at the door.

As the men gathered around the kitten, Hogan snuck away from the group and into Klink's kitchen. He found the bottle of vitamins and swapped the vitamins for the sleeping pills, then placed the bottle back on the shelf. Hogan was just returning the box that now held vitamins back into his jacket, when Langenscheidt burst in.

"Oh, there you are, Colonel," Langenscheidt breathed a sigh of relief. "When I didn't see you with the rest, I thought for a minute that you had escaped."

Hogan chuckled, and as he passed the guard he patted him on the shoulder. "Now why would I want to do that?"

* * *

><p>Later that afternoon, Klink was busy at his desk, while the kitten played with a ball of wadded up paper on the floor. Just as he signed another report, Hilda opened the door and smiled at the kitten before turning to Klink.<p>

"Major Hochstetter is here to see you, _Kommandant_."

Klink's eyes widened. "Hochstetter!"

Klink quickly scooped up the kitten, and frantically looked for a place to hide it. Opening one of his near empty drawers in his desk, he set the kitten inside and shut it just as Hochstetter burst in.

"Ah! Major Hochstetter! It's always a pleasure! What can I do for you today?"

"What can you do for me?" Hochstetter repeated, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Klink smiled and nodded. "Just ask, and I'll do it. I'm always pleased to cooperate with the Gestapo."

"Then _shut up and listen_!" Hochstetter screamed, leaning across the desk as he shouted.

"Yes sir, shut up and listen." Klink shrank back.

Hochstetter smiled that twisted smile that always made Klink's hair stand on end. What little he had, that is. "That's better. Now, Klink-"

Hochstetter was interrupted by a small, short, high-pitched noise coming from the other side of the desk.

"I thought I told you to shut up, Klink."

"You did. I was just, uhhh, clearing my throat," Klink said, attempting to draw suspicion away from the drawer.

Hochstetter's eyes narrowed, but he continued. "As I was saying Klink, there's been a lot of sabotage around this area lately and I am-"

"Lately that's been your excuse every time you show up around here. Can't you think of anything better to do than investigate a prison camp? And not just any prison camp; we have never had a successful escape from Stalag 13. You can never find any evidence here to support your suspicions, so why don't you quit harassing me and leave?" Klink interrupted.

Hochstetter's eyes bugged out. "**How dare you talk to the Gestapo like that, Klink!** I should have you shot for that!"

"I-I'm sorry, I don't know what got into me…" Klink felt like crawling under the carpet.

"_As I was saying_, I am convinced that it is Hogan and his band of trouble-makers, Klink. They must have something to do with it. I just know it!" Hochstetter finished.

"But there has never been a successful escape from Stalag 13. How can—"

At that moment, another small noise came drifting out of the drawer.

Klink froze.

"That time it wasn't you, Klink! Where is that noise coming from?!" Hochstetter growled, starting to look under papers on Klink's desk.

"I'm sure it's nothing, Major. Shall we continue what we were discussing?" Klink said, with a pasted on smile.

"No, Klink! It could be a bomb!"

"A bomb that meows?" Klink chuckled to himself.

"Meows?" Hochstetter stopped turning Klink's office into a disaster area and glared at Klink. "Do you have a CAT in here?!"

"Of course not! I don't have a cat," Klink said, then as Hochstetter turned back to searching for his 'bomb' Klink mumbled to himself, "it's a kitten."

"**A kitten** in a prison camp?! Klink, when you got up this morning, did you forget to screw on your head?"

Klink chuckled nervously. "That's very good, Major Hochstetter… Did I forget to screw on my head… ha ha ha!"

Hochstetter sarcastically mimicked Klink. "Ha ha ha."

When Klink continued cackling, Hochstetter slammed his gloves down on the desk so hard most of the papers went flying off.

"_**Shut up, Klink!**_ You sound like a hyena!"

Klink stopped laughing. "Like a hyena, yes sir."

"Now, get that cat out of your desk!" Hochstetter shouted.

Klink opened the drawer, procured the kitten, and moved around to the other side of the desk so Hochstetter could see it.

Hochstetter walked slowly around Klink, examining the tiny cat as it meowed. "Where did you get this animal, Klink?"

"I found it," Klink answered, stroking the kitten.

"Where?" Hochstetter whirled around and pointed his gloves at Klink. "The prisoners could have put a listening bug on it and then planted it so you could find the cat."

Klink sighed. "Of course not. I found it in town. Besides, it's not wearing a collar or anything of that sort."

"Well… I just _know_ Hogan is the cause of the sabotage." Hochstetter frowned. "I will be back, Klink. I must make sure the radio detection truck has arrived."

Hochstetter walked to the door, and then looked back at Klink. "Oh, and since I will be here for several days, I will be sleeping in your quarters."

"But-but-but," Klink started, but Hochstetter gave Klink a disgusted look and slammed the door behind him.

Klink slumped back his chair, still holding the kitten. "That Hochstetter. Ugh!" He said, half to himself, half to the kitten. "What am I going to do with you while he's here, Kätzchen?"

* * *

><p>LeBeau unplugged the coffee pot and then turned toward Hogan. "What do we do now, Colonel?"<p>

"Well, the first thing is cancel the mission tonight," Hogan said, sighing as he got up from his chair and started to pace back and forth across the room.

Carter's face fell. "Awww, no Colonel! I had those charges all set."

A corner of Hogan's mouth turned up in a slight smile. "I'm sorry, Carter, but we have to wait until Hochstetter and his goons leave camp. Also, nobody use the radio while he's here," Hogan said, opening his window, and the men gathered around as they watched Hochstetter shout orders to some Gestapo men inside the radio detection truck. "We have to find some way to get Hochstetter out of camp."

Hogan closed the window and resumed his pacing. "I wonder..." he mused to himself.

Newkirk sat down on the bottom bunk. "You 'ave something, sir?"

"Maybe. We might be able to annoy Hochstetter so much that he leaves."

"Annoy the Gestapo? That's not such a great idea," Carter frowned.

"_O__ui_," LeBeau agreed. "Hochstetter might realize what we're doing."

"Not if someone _else_ does the dirty work," Hogan said, a glint in his eye.

"How are we going to do that?" Kinch wondered.

Hogan smiled. "Simple. We'll use Klink's kitten."


	3. Good Riddance

**A/N: I just want to thank everyone that's reviewed and offered advice on this story so far. I really appreciate it! And I'm very glad you're enjoying it!**

**This chapter is rather short, and I apologize for that, but I hope to remedy that in the next chapter. :-)**

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><p>It was evening, that same day, at Stalag 13. Major Hochstetter had interrogated each one of Hogan's men, but the roughest he had gotten with them was with threats of Gestapo torture and a special cell they had that was like a hotel room Hogan had gotten once in Cleveland.*<p>

Hochstetter and Klink were eating supper in Klink's quarters, discussing plans of ways to get information from the prisoners. (The Major had also insisted upon having Klink's best wine, much to Klink's chagrin.)

"Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, so you're saying that you are going to plant a bug in every corner of the prisoners' barracks?" Klink asked, taking a bite of his food.

"That's right. But you'll have to assign the prisoners to a task to get them out of the barracks while my men plant the bugs. That is, if you can handle that," Hochstetter said sarcastically, as he poured more wine into his glass.

Klink chuckled. "Of course I can handle that, Major Hochstetter."

"Don't bet on it," Hochstetter said, glaring at Klink.

Klink scowled and went back to his food.

"Also, I will continue interrogating–" Hochstetter stopped midsentence as the kitten jumped on the table, grabbed a piece of Hochstetter's chicken, and then jumped off the table and scampered under the sofa to eat his prize.

Hochstetter remained speechless for a few seconds, trying to comprehend what he has just seen. "That cat—it just stole my chicken!" Hochstetter managed, pointing at the couch. When he didn't receive an answer from Klink's side of the table, Hochstetter glanced over to find Klink laughing hysterically.

"_**KLINK!**_"

Klink abruptly stopped laughing and leaned forward as he went back to his meal, shoveling food into his mouth.

Hochstetter whirled back to glare at the sofa. After considering a minute, he ordered Langenscheidt, who was standing by the door, to get the stolen chicken leg back.

"You-you want me to take back the chicken?" Langenscheidt repeated, puzzled.

"That _is _what I said, yes," Hochstetter growled.

Langenscheidt rapidly headed for the sofa, and after leaning his rifle against it, he knelt down and reached for the meat; but the kitten had no intention of giving it up. Langenscheidt hurriedly drew back his hand when the kitten hissed at him.

"T-the kitten won't let me take it. He might bite," the nervous guard told Hochstetter.

"Bah! You're in the Luftwaffe! Even you should be able to take a piece of chicken away from a tiny kitten!" Hochstetter shouted, as he got up and went over to the sofa. "Let _me _show you how it's done."

Hochstetter bent down and reached under the sofa, grabbing for the meat. As he felt it, he smiled triumphantly, but as he was pulling it out: **"OUCH!"**

Klink almost fell off his chair laughing.

Hochstetter yanked his hand away and got to his feet as he examined the bite. Even though they were tiny, the kitten's teeth were razor sharp; the feline had drawn blood.

The major gritted his teeth as he covered his hand with his other, uninjured hand, and reached for a napkin. "_KLINK."_

For the second time, Klink ceased cackling and busied himself in his meal.

* * *

><p>Outside, looking in through the window, Hogan and Newkirk were stifling laughter.<p>

"It's even better than we'd hoped for," Hogan said, delighted at the way the evening was progressing.

"Your idea to take away the kitten's food worked like a charm, guv'nor," Newkirk grinned. "'ow'd you know it was going to react like it did?"

"I didn't. It was just a guess," Hogan answered.

"Jolly good guess then, sir," Newkirk replied, chuckling as he turned back to the window.

* * *

><p>Inside, Hochstetter had wrapped his hand in the napkin, and was currently screaming to Klink about the kitten. Klink was starting to look a little green by the time Hochstetter finally stopped his tirade.<p>

"I'm going to bed; I'll deal with you in the morning. You had better start packing right now, Klink. And pack earmuffs. You're going to need them in _Pinsk_!" Hochstetter yelled, emphasizing every syllable.

Klink winced as Hochstetter stomped over to the bedroom and slammed the door so hard the building shook. After dismissing Langenscheidt with a salute, Klink looked down and saw the kitten pressed up against his leg, looking rather frightened. Klink had been feeling quite angry with the kitten, but seeing the kitten look up at him with those huge, frightened eyes, Klink melted into a puddle. He reached down and scooped up the kitten, holding it out in front of him as he smiled wanly.

"Kätzchen, you've sure gotten me in a lot of trouble," Klink informed the kitten. Just as he reached to stroke the little cat on the chin, Klink heard a yell, followed by his name being shouted so loud he was sure everyone in Berlin could hear.

The door to Klink's room was flung open, and Hochstetter stormed out, looking so mad that Klink expected fire to come out of the Gestapo major's nostrils at any moment.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure there's an explanation," Klink protested, backing up ever so slowly to the door.

"That… _cat_…" Hochstetter spat the word, "_puked_ on my pillow."

Klink didn't say a word, for fear he might break down in laughter again.

"I have had enough of this, Klink! I am leaving! But don't think that Berlin won't hear about this!" Hochstetter shouted, stomping past Klink and out the door.

Klink stood watching as Hochstetter ordered the radio detector truck to follow him out, and then the Major got in his car and went speeding out the gate. It was only then that Klink permitted himself to double over in laughter at Hochstetter's misfortune.

* * *

><p>In the barracks, Hogan and his men crowded around the door and watched Hochstetter leave.<p>

"We did it!" LeBeau grinned.

"I don't think we've ever gotten rid of Hochstetter so fast. He just got here this morning!" Carter pointed out happily.

"Yeah, and good riddance," Newkirk added, with a smirk.

"Let's just hope that next time, Hochstetter doesn't come down to hard on Klink for owning a cat," Hogan said, closing the door. "That little kitten might come in handy again."

* * *

><p>Klink had a guard clean the bed while he wondered what had happened to the sandbox. He couldn't imagine anyone taking it. Klink was just about to go and ask Hogan if he'd seen it when that very person peeked in the door of Klink's quarters and asked, with a twinkle in his eye, "Permission to enter, sir?"<p>

"Yes, come in, Hogan," Klink said, and did a double take when Hogan walked in carrying the sandbox.

"I just saw Hochstetter leave, so I figured it would be safe to bring this back now," Hogan explained, setting the sandbox on the floor.

"You took it?" Klink asked incredulously.

"Of course. We don't want Hochstetter hanging around here anymore than you do," Hogan said.

Klink looked suspicious. "Are you trying to hide something, Hogan?"

Hogan rolled his eyes. "Of course not. How can we hide anything in _this _prison camp, the toughest POW camp in Germany? We just don't like Hochstetter, that's all."

Klink still looked unconvinced, so Hogan continued. "You hate Hochstetter too. We did you a favor."

"I _do _hate Hochstetter; I guess we both have that in common," Klink agreed. "Very well, Hogan. I believe you."

Hogan smiled and nodded.

Klink grinned at the memory of Hochstetter's misfortunes. "You should have been here, Hogan. It was glorious!"

"I bet it was," Hogan said, grinning mischievously as he wandered over to the table, where the bottle of wine still sat. He poured both Klink and himself a drink.

Klink accepted.

"To our success in getting rid of Hochstetter!" Hogan said, as he clinked his glass against Klink's.

"I'll drink to that!" Klink chortled, and downed his glass.

* * *

><p><strong>*The special cell that's like a hotel room Hogan had in Cleveland is described in the episode, "Two Nazis for the Price of One." Here's the actual episode dialogue about the cell:<strong>

**Major Hochstetter: "Of course, we could give you the time to think it over in a special cell we have. It's not big enough to stand up in, and it is not big enough to lie down in."**  
><strong>Col. Hogan: "Sounds like a hotel room I once had in Cleveland."<strong>  
><strong>Major Hochstetter: "During the days, the temperature is 140 degrees, and at night, it is below freezing."<strong>  
><strong>Col. Hogan: "That's the hotel, all right."<strong>  
><strong>Major Hochstetter: "Then, if you still won't talk, you will be starved, tortured and then shot. Well, Colonel, what you say, hmm?"<strong>  
><strong>Col. Hogan: "What can I say? You've made me homesick for Cleveland."<strong>


	4. A Kätzchen Christmas

_A/N: Again, thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed this story so far. I really appreciate it. Also, special thanks to Goldleaf83, who gave me some helpful suggestions when I had a bit of writer's block. :-)_

_I originally was going to post this on Christmas day, but I'm going to be out of town, so I decided to post it a little early._  
><em>Here's wishing you and yours a very Merry Chr<em>_istmas and a happy and blessed New Years!_

_Kitten's age in this chapter: __Around thirteen weeks old, or three months._**  
><strong>

* * *

><p>It was Christmas day, 1943, about mid morning. Klink was in his office, trying to catch up on some paperwork he needed to finish. He was in a rather cheerful mood that morning, and as he worked he hummed "Stille Nacht."<p>

He was just starting to fill out some blanks on a report when the door to his office opened and Hogan burst in. "Merry Christmas, Kommandant!"

Klink sighed as he looked down at his pencil. Hogan's unexpected entry had startled him, causing him to press down too hard on the pencil, and the tip had broken off.

Hogan noticed. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I startle you?"

"No, I just break my pencils because it's fun," Klink replied sarcastically.

Hogan grinned at Klink's obvious annoyance, but then came to the point of his visit. "I just came in to invite you to our Christmas service. It's supposed to start in a few minutes."

"Hmmm. I suppose I could come," Klink decided. "It's been too long since I was at my last church service. It will be interesting to see how an American service is different than a German one."

"The men will be glad you're coming, Kommandant," Hogan smiled. "It was their idea to invite you."

"Oh, well, that was very nice of them. I'll have to thank them later," Klink grabbed his hat as he spoke, and Hogan helped him on with his coat. "Danke, Hogan."

As they exited the building, out of the corner of his eye Klink noticed Kätzchen dart out the door. He didn't really pay attention to it; he had been letting the kitten out to play in the compound during the day.

So Klink didn't notice the kitten following the two colonels as they made their way to the small chapel.

* * *

><p>Upon reaching the building, both Klink and Hogan removed their hats, and the latter moved to find himself a seat next to his men. Klink tagged along, and came across an empty seat behind Hogan and the other four.<p>

Once seated, Klink glanced around before the service started to see who else was there. A large amount of the prisoners had showed up, and Klink was surprised to note that several camp guards were there too, including Schultz and Langenscheidt.

Klink leaned forward to whisper in Hogan's ear. "Who invited Schultz?"

"I think LeBeau did – why?"

"I don't know if he should be here. He's taking up two chairs instead of one."

Hogan chuckled softly. "No one's complaining. Besides, he's on a diet."

"That's what he always says. But have you ever noticed any change?"

Hogan was about to answer – in the negative, by the way – when Foster walked up to the pulpit, and started his sermon.

As the men's attention turned to the chaplain, no one saw a little orange kitten softly wandering around under the chairs, looking a little lost.

As Foster continued to talk about the reason for the season, Kätzchen reached the front of the church where the pulpit was. Curiosity took the place of fright, and the kitten padded up to the human looming far above him.

It was then that Klink noticed his kitten.

Klink's eyebrows went to his hairline (or rather, where his hairline would have been)_. Oh, no. _ He replaced his monocle where it had fallen out, and started praying that the kitten would just leave without causing a scene. Praying _hard. _

But the kitten had different ideas. After sniffing at them for a few seconds, Kätzchen reached a paw out to tap Foster's shoe laces, and then pounced on them. Foster, who up till now hadn't noticed the kitten, gave a start. Upon looking down, he bit back a laugh and went back to trying to preach.

The prisoners had all noticed the kitten at this point. It was all they could do to stifle their laughter at the sight of an adorable fluffy kitten playing with their chaplain's shoelaces as he preached.

Klink wasn't laughing, however. Actually, he looked a little green.

But the worst was yet to come. The kitten, bursting with curiosity, had now tired of the shoelaces as he blinked up at Foster, trying to see what the chaplain was doing. Kätzchen decided to get a closer look, and gathered his hind legs beneath him just before he leaped onto the pulpit.

If Klink had looked green before, now he was positively _neon. _

Foster wasn't sure what to do as the kitten walked all over his notes and then sprawled down on them; the prisoners no longer contained their laughter. A grin slowly spread across Foster's face, and as Kätzchen gave an inquisitive meow, the chaplain also laughed.

Soon the whole room was bursting with laughter, and Klink found himself actually smiling a bit. Who couldn't, in a room full of people in hysterics?

Finally, Foster picked up the cat and scratched him on the head before handing him to someone on the front row with instructions to hand him down to Klink, while he went back to the pulpit.

The kitten didn't mind the many hands passing him down. Finally he got down to Klink by way of Hogan, who sniggered once quietly as he handed Kätzchen to Klink.

Klink frowned at the kitten, but just held him firmly in his lap while he tried to focus his attention back on Foster.

A while later, Foster wrapped up his sermon with a prayer:

"Lord God, we thank you that when we were far gone in sin and hopelessly lost, when there was no hope and we were doomed to eternal judgment, you came to us in the person of your Son, Jesus Christ. You did not forget us, and you did not leave us alone. We bless you for remembering us in our misery and coming to save us through Christ the Lord. You clothed your Son with human flesh so that he might be our Savior. Fill us with joy this Christmas season, even as we are so far from our loved ones, because if God be for us, and if God be with us, who can be against us? This we pray in the name of Immanuel, God with us, the Lord Jesus Christ, Amen."

Klink rose from his seat and headed for the exit, prepared to give Kätzchen a good talking to once he was back in his office. But he was detained while multiple prisoners stopped on their way out to pet the cute kitten and comment on the show he had put on for them.

Finally, Hogan's core group passed by on their journey to the door.

"Looks like Kätzchen needs to learn some church manners, Kommandant," Carter joked.

"That's a fact; I wonder why 'is mum didn't teach 'im," Newkirk smirked.

"But he's a great comedian," Kinch said.

LeBeau added something in French that Klink didn't understand, but he got the gist of it.

Hogan opened his mouth, as if to say something too, but at the look on Klink's face he thought better of it. Grinning to himself, he herded the others out, and finally Klink and Kätzchen were left alone in the building.

Klink set the kitten on the floor and looked down reprovingly at him. Kätzchen held his stare with those big blue eyes, before looking away, and then glancing back up, almost shyly.

Klink sighed and bent down to pick up the kitten. "Why must you be so _cute_?"

* * *

><p>A little later in the day, Klink was back at his desk, working away, as Kätzchen lay sprawled out on the floor, sleeping. He had just begun to scribble on a report when the door burst open again.<p>

_Crack._

Klink looked down at the pencil, then up at the intruder. It was Captain Gruber, Klink's adjutant.

"Yes, Captain?"

Gruber saluted, then reached back into the outer office and pulled in a medium sized Christmas tree.

"Whaaa…?" Klink protested. "I don't need a Christmas tree."

"Of course you do. It's Christmas. And this will make you want it: it's got a swastika on top!" The Captain informed Klink, dragging the tree in front of the Hitler picture on the wall to the left of Klink's desk.

"That's the very reason I don't–" Klink cut himself off before he said anything that the gung-ho officer might use against him. "Uh, thank you."

Captain Gruber saluted Klink and then strode out.

Klink rose to get a better look at the tree. It had a swastika on top, with several swastika ornaments. No stars or angels or any traditional decorations. Klink sighed, then shrugged and went back to his desk.

However, the new item in the room attracted the attention of Kätzchen. The kitten cautiously approached the tree, sniffing at it. When he decided that it wasn't going to attack him, Kätzchen flopped down underneath it.

Klink smiled and resumed his work. For a few minutes the only sound in the room was the noise of Klink's fresh pencil scratching across the reports he was working on. Then Kätzchen jumped on his desk. Klink didn't think much about it, and just kept on writing.

Kätzchen sat on the desk, holding a staring match with the tree for a couple moments. Then he stood and readied himself to leap.

Klink started when he heard a startled meow as the tree was thrown to the ground by Kätzchen's weight.  
><em>Crack. <em>  
>There went another pencil. But Klink's main concern was his kitten.<p>

"Kätzchen!"

Klink hurriedly rose and moved to where the tree had fallen. Kätzchen lay on his back underneath it, blinking in surprise. Klink quickly moved the tree from on top of the kitten, and knelt down as Kätzchen rolled over and quickly rose to his feet. He still had a rather startled look on his face, as if he couldn't comprehend the reason the tree had collapsed.

Klink gently picked up Kätzchen and carried him back over to his desk. "Are you alright, Kätzchen?"

The kitten squirmed free from Klink's arms and leaped onto the desk. He sure seemed all right. After watching him closely for a few moments, Klink concluded that the kitten had only been surprised by the tree falling on him, not hurt. Klink sighed in relief.

"You must be more careful, Kätzchen."

Klink finally remembered the tree, and moved over to set it right side up again. Then he noticed that most of the glass swastika ornaments had been broken in the fall, and the large swastika on top of the tree had fallen off.

"Well, no one has to know it didn't break, also," Klink said aloud, taking it over to the trash bin, and smiled wanly as he dropped it in.

* * *

><p>That evening, after gifting the prisoners with their Red Cross packages, Klink sat alone in his quarters, reading the Christmas story in his old and dusty German Bible he had found under some other books. Kätzchen sat perched on his shoulder, staring down at the book, almost looking as if he was reading it too.<p>

As Klink read, he suddenly heard faint voices. He paused, straining his ears to try and make out what they were saying. But, they weren't talking – it sounded like they were singing. _Singing?!_

Klink got up and moved over to the window, with Kätzchen still on his shoulder. Klink opened it and peered out across the compound. _It's the prisoners, and Schultz is with them! _Klink realized. _They're singing… it sounds like "Stille Nacht", but of course in English._

The German Colonel listened as the prisoners (plus Schultz) sang the traditional Christmas carol:

"Silent night, Holy night  
>All is calm, all is bright<br>Round yon virgin mother and child  
>Holy infant so tender and mild<br>Sleep in heavenly peace,  
>Sleep in heavenly peace."<p>

The prisoners continued into the second verse, but Klink was already out the door and heading across the compound.

Hogan stood with the rest of the prisoners and Schultz as they sang. As he noticed Klink coming towards the caroling group, he nudged Schultz, who muttered quietly under his breath, "Oh, no. He'll spoil _everything_."

The other prisoners had also noticed Klink approaching, and they straightened as they ceased singing. Schultz saluted nervously.

Hogan spoke up first. "Kommandant, I know the men are supposed to be in the barracks at night, but since its Christmas—"

"That's alright. I'll make an exception this time," Klink offered, then warned them, "But just because it's Christmas. Don't think you can do it all the time; discipline must be maintained!"

"Oh, definitely, Colonel," Hogan agreed.

"Herr Kommandant, what's that on your shoulder?" Schultz dared to ask. In the semi darkness, it was rather hard to make out details.

"That's Kätzchen," Klink replied. "He's decided he likes riding around on my shoulder."

Carter grinned. "How does it feel being a taxi?"

"Well, it would be better if I could get paid for it," Klink quipped.

The men chuckled.

"At least you're not a yellow taxi," Carter added.

The other prisoners glared at him. Carter frowned and shrugged.

There was a moment of silence, then Klink cleared his throat spoke again. "Uh, yeah. I, um, heard you all singing 'Silent Night.'"

"Yes, we were," Hogan answered, and then added half-jokingly, "Would you like to join us?"

"Actually, I might," Klink said.

Hogan looked slightly surprised, and Klink noticed.

"Well, its Christmas," Klink defended himself. "I don't think there's anything wrong with Germans and Americans singing Christmas carols together. After all, we're singing about someone that's the same for people on both sides... or should be."

Hogan caught Klink's eye, and realized that, like Schultz, Klink was a German who was willing to go against the Fuehrer's changed version of Christmas, and celebrate the _true_ meaning of Christmas. "We would be honored to have you join us, Kommandant."

Klink smiled back. "Thank you, Hogan."

Hogan nodded and then turned to the prisoners. "Well, now that that's settled, how about "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing?"

And so, for one evening, in that small, out of the way prison camp, there were no Nazis vs. Allies, Germans vs. Americans, bad guys vs. good. Just a group of men seeking to honor the birth of their Savior.

* * *

><p><em>Just FYI, I have no idea whether a POW camp would have a chapel or anything like that. I'm just guessing they might.<em>  
><em>I'm also not sure that Foster is the chaplain. I just remember reading an HH story on here once where he was.<em>  
><em>Please correct me if I'm wrong!<em>  
><em>Also, the 'yellow taxi' joke is meant to be a nod and wink at an HH episode, but I just can't remember the title right now. Anybody else remember?<strong><br>**_


	5. See the Big Man Cry

A few days after New Years, things had pretty much settled back to normal at Stalag 13.

After roll call that morning, Klink bustled past Hilda on the way into his office.

"Fraulein Hilda, I'm expecting a call from General Burkhalter soon, so when he calls, please put him through to my office at once," Klink ordered, pausing in the doorway. "Oh, and can you let Kätzchen out? He's pawing at the door."

"_Jawohl_, Colonel," Hilda said, rising and moving over to the door. She reached for the doorknob, but the door sprang open as someone else opened it from the outside. Hilda gave a startled yelp as the door knocked her backwards.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! Are you alright, Hilda?" Hogan immediately asked, coming over to her.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just, open the door slower next time," Hilda answered, straightening her dress.

"How can I, when I'm in such a hurry to see you?" Hogan's voice had dropped impishly, and he pulled her closer and planted a kiss on her lips.

"Hogannnn!" Klink bellowed, from the doorway of his office, having come out when he had heard Hilda cry out.

Hogan lingered with Hilda for a moment, then gave her a promise-to-be-back-later smile and then brushed past Klink on his way to the Kommandant's office.

Klink waved a fist as Hogan swept by. "Mmmph!"

Hogan swiped a cigar before Klink followed him into his office.

"What do you want, Hogan?" Klink sighed, coming to sit behind the desk.

"What do I _want_? Let's see here. How 'bout a weekend pass into town?"

Klink rolled his eyes. "That's very funny."

"_That's _funny? Wait 'till you hear this joke I heard about the little corporal with the mustache," Hogan grinned.

"That's enough of your American insolence!" Klink thumped his fist on his desk.

"Well, maybe it was in bad taste," Hogan conceded.

"Oh, just get to the point, Hogan," Klink sighed, and rubbed his face with one hand.

"Having a bad day, sir?" Hogan asked, noticing that Klink had deflated quicker than usual.

Klink sighed, then looked up at Hogan. "Yes. Between you and General Burkhalter, you're going to drive me to an early grave."

"Oh! I'll reserve your spot in the cemetery for you, then!" Hogan said, making a show of being delighted.

Klink glared at Hogan. "Did you just come here to annoy me?"

"Actually, no," Hogan admitted. "I came to complain about the bread. We might as well be eating our bunks!"

"Go ahead; I have no objections," Klink informed him.

"Come now, Kommandant. Be reasonable! Can't you at least give us an extra slice of white bread a week? Per man, of course."

"If I do, will you leave me alone so I can get my work done?"

"Of course," Hogan assured Klink.

"Alright, one extra slice of white bread per man. Now, out!" Klink demanded, standing and pointing toward the door.

"I'm going. Say, do you happen to have a light?" Hogan asked, waving the cigar he had gotten from Klink's humidor.

"Oh, yes. Right here – OUT!"

Hogan grinned as he scooted out the door. Annoying Klink was one of the few joys of prison camp life.

* * *

><p>Kinch met Hogan at the door of their barracks.<p>

"Müller's ready, Colonel. But don't you think it's a bit risky moving an underground agent out during the day?"

"It is. But he has to get into town before tonight to meet with that contact, so we have to risk it. When will Schnitzer be here?" Hogan asked, looking at his watch.

"In an hour," Kinch informed him.

"Good. Everything should work out fine," Hogan assured Kinch, though he also had his doubts about moving Müller out in broad daylight.

* * *

><p>An hour later, Schultz was lumbering across the compound when he noticed Oscar Schnitzer's truck come through the gates on its way to the dog kennel. Schultz frowned. <em>Schnitzer's not due for another week, <em>Schultz thought. _What's he doing here now?_

As Schnitzer parked the truck, Schultz hurried over to meet him.

"Hey, Schnitzer!"

"_Ja_?" the vet asked, as he got out of the truck to start unloading the dogs.

"What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here until next week," Schultz pointed out, following Schnitzer to the back of the truck.

"I won't be in town next week, so I came early. What's the difference, eh?"

"You're supposed to stick to the schedule!" Schultz grumbled.

"Look, Schultz, it doesn't matter," Schnitzer insisted, pulling out another dog by the collar, and guiding it into the kennel.

As Schultz and Schnitzer argued about the schedule, Hogan raised the dog house an inch to peek out, trying to see when Schnitzer was heading back towards the cab so Hogan could sneak Müller into the back of the truck. He was about to lower it when he caught sight of Kätzchen, approaching the van curiously. _Oh, no. _

Schnitzer, not noticing the kitten, unloaded the last dog, and was leading it into the kennel when the dog turned his head. Schnitzer didn't have time to see what it was looking at, before the dog lunged.

Suddenly, chaos erupted.

Ten barking, snarling dogs came charging out of the dog kennel, plus the one that had started the whole thing, and went racing after Kätzchen, who had turned tail and ran.

Schnitzer had been pulled to the ground when the first dog had lunged, and now he was on his feet and yelling for the dogs to come back. Schultz started blowing his whistle and calling for the guards.

The other guards thought an escape was happening, and so the alarm started blaring and guards started running towards the dogs.

Taking advantage of the commotion, Hogan pushed Müller out of the doghouse tunnel, and Schnitzer helped him into the dog truck. With that out of the way, Schnitzer turned his attention back on the dogs and Kätzchen, who were now barreling full speed towards the fence.

Klink came running out of the Kommandantur, yelling for Schultz, before he caught sight of the dogs and what they were chasing._ "**Kätzchen**!" _he yelled, horrified.

The terrified kitten darted through the small gaps in the fence, just squeezing through before the dogs were stopped by the fence. They barked as they ran up and down the fence a little ways, frustrated.

Klink watched, paralyzed, as his kitten disappeared into the distance. Schnitzer and some of the guards had by now reached the dogs and were dragging them back to the kennel.

Klink recovered from the initial shock, and yelled for Schultz.

"_Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_?" The guard said, hurrying over.

"Quick, call out the guards! Get a search party! We are going to go find Kätzchen!" Klink yelled, as he dashed off towards one of the camp trucks.

Schultz hurried off, saluting, but Klink didn't even acknowledge it.

* * *

><p>Later that day, Klink sat dejectedly in his office. The search party had returned about an hour ago, after going over the woods with a fine-toothed comb. Their efforts had been in vain, however. It seemed like Kätzchen had just vanished into thin air.<p>

There were still a few guards out searching, just going back over where they had already searched to make sure they hadn't missed anything.

Klink jumped as the phone on the portable radio rang, and he grabbed it quickly.

"Yes!?"

"I'm sorry, Herr Kommandant. We couldn't find anything," Langenscheidt replied, over the phone.

Klink sighed. "Alright. Go ahead and..." it broke Klink's heart to quit searching, but he knew there was no use in continuing, "...come back to camp."

"Jawhol, Herr Kommandant," Langenscheidt said, in a subdued tone. He had grown quite fond of the little cat also, and he was very sorry to lose Kätzchen.

Klink hung up the handset. Until now, the full realization that Kätzchen was gone hadn't quite sunk in; the realization descended now in a slow, chilling wave. Klink closed his eyes, clenching his fists as he tried to shut out the rising feelings of grief and anguish.

Klink hadn't had his kitten all that long yet, but the kitten had already firmly wrapped him around his finger (or paw, in this case), and he couldn't think of life without Kätzchen anymore. But now…

Klink's shoulders began to shake, and he buried his face in his hands as he grieved for the loss of his beloved Kätzchen.


	6. Homeward Bound

_The next chapter or so might be a little delayed, as my dog has just been diagnosed with a liver issue, and I might be busy with that for a little bit. But rest assured, I will get the next chapter up just as soon as I can!_  
><em>Thanks again, reviewers! :-)<em>

* * *

><p>Kätzchen paused under a tree to catch his breath. After dashing out of the camp, he had kept on running for a ways; but after stopping in the middle of the woods, he had heard voices and smelled people, and so he had continued running, fearing that the people had brought more of those dreaded animals that had chased him out of camp in the first place.<p>

Now, at the outskirts of the woods, Kätzchen felt relatively safe: there were no more voices and sounds coming from inside the woods. But he was starting to get hungry. Turning, he looked back into the woods, and then started walking in that direction, figuring he would just go back to the camp where his friend Klink would have fresh food sitting in his bowl. And maybe those dogs would be back in their cage, where, in his opinion, they belonged.

* * *

><p>An hour later, Kätzchen was starting to get frightened. It was starting to get dark and cold and it reminded him of that terrible night before Klink found him, when he had wandered away from his mother and sibling, only to return and find them gone. He had looked everywhere, all the while crying loudly for them, but they were nowhere.<p>

Then some neighborhood boys had noticed him as he wandered around, shivering and meowing, and they had decided to have some 'fun' by kicking at him and bullying him. Kätzchen had tried to slip away, but the boys weren't going to let him get away that easily.

It was then that Klink showed up, and Kätzchen's whole life changed: he went from being an abused, homeless, orphan kitten, to a pampered and loved kitten with a warm home. But now it looked like all that was gone.

With all the twists and turns he had made earlier when he was evading the people, Kätzchen couldn't remember the way back to camp, and the freezing wind was blowing the scent of camp in all directions. The kitten panicked at a clap of thunder, which was followed by a flash of lightning; Kätzchen bolted and started running again.

The kitten finally stopped under a tree that afforded decent shelter from the pouring rain. Curling up at the bottom of the tree, attempting to stay at least slightly warm, Kätzchen couldn't help but think about that warm, dry, soft couch in Klink's quarters. He let out a soft, sorrowful meow for Klink, as the raindrops fell relentlessly to the ground.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Kätzchen awoke abruptly upon hearing the sound of a twig snapping. The kitten leaped to his feet, before noticing it was just a squirrel that had darted across the ground. He sat back down. It had stopped raining, and it wasn't quite as cold as it had been the night before, but the kitten was still miserable.<p>

He raised a paw to clean himself, and discovered it was covered in mud. Kätzchen meowed in disgust and gingerly replaced his paw on the ground.

The kitten sat for a while longer, mentally debating which direction to travel in, and finally decided on his east. He headed off in that direction at a fast clip.

* * *

><p>"Repooort!"<p>

"All present and accounted for, Herr Kommandant," Schutlz replied, saluting Klink with one hand as he held the clipboard in the other.

"Good. Dismissed!"

As Klink strode back to his office, Hogan approached Schultz. "How's the Kommandant this morning, Schultz? Still upset about Kätzchen being gone?"

"Very. He didn't want his breakfast – it was _wunderbar, _by the way– and he hasn't spoken to anyone, except for necessary prison camp business. I do feel sorry for him; he really loved that kitten. So did I," Schultz added forlornly; the big guard also possessed a big heart.

"We all did, Schultz," Hogan agreed. It was true; most of the prisoners had been saddened to hear that Kätzchen had run off. Even he had grown fond of the kitten in the short time Klink had had him.  
>Hogan sighed and turned to head back to his barracks.<p>

* * *

><p>A few hours later, Kätzchen paused in his trek through the woods to attempt to stalk a bird pecking at the ground nearby; but he was rather out of practice and misjudged his pounce. The bird squawked and rapidly flew away. <em>There goes my lunch, <em>the kitten observed, ruefully.

He sat down for a minute, considering. He hadn't gotten anywhere in the time he had been walking and something told him this was the wrong way. Kätzchen jacked his rear up off the ground and decided to head in a different direction for a while. But as he took a step, he suddenly got a whiff of…

_Stew? _

The kitten stopped. That was the same smell that he had smelled once or twice before at the prison camp, coming from the prisoner's barracks. He had always managed to be around the barracks when he had smelled that meat, and by employing some clever adorable-kitten-eyes tactics, he had always managed to persuade the prisoners to let him have a bit of the food. And right now especially, it smelled awfully delicious.

Kätzchen sniffed the wind, attempting to figure out which direction the smell had drifted over from. He figured he must not be that far from the camp, if he could smell lunch. The kitten turned in a circle, sniffing… _There it was again! _He bounded eagerly in the direction of the scent.

* * *

><p>Klink moved some papers aside on his nightstand as he searched for a report he had left there the other day. But when he opened the drawer to check there, he froze: in the bottom of the drawer lay a small toy mouse that had been Kätzchen's favorite toy.<p>

Klink blinked suspiciously a few times, remembering the kitten's enjoyment of the toy that Hilda had sewed from some scraps of fabric she had. It had given Kätzchen many hours of pleasure, and Klink had never tired of watching the small kitten knock the toy mouse about the room.

His reverie was interrupted by a knock on the door to his quarters. Klink shoved the drawer shut and straightened. "Come in!" he called from the bedroom.

Schultz entered, bearing a tray. "Your lunch, _Herr Kommandant._"

"I'm not hungry," Klink insisted, as he resumed his search for the elusive report.

"But, _Herr Kommandant, _you have not eaten since yesterday morning. You must eat something," Schultz insisted, not unkindly.

Klink stopped his rummaging just long enough to give Schultz a glare through the open bedroom door. "I said, **I'm not hungry**_._"

"_Jawhol, Herr Kommandant_," Schultz replied, shrugging.

Klink nodded and turned back to his task of digging through his drawers, but instead of the report, Klink found an old lost pocket watch among the many papers inside his drawer. Seriously, when was the last time he had emptied out these drawers? He needed to do that soon; who knows what he might find buried down there?

Shifting his train of thoughts back to his conversation with Schultz, Klink sighed. He really shouldn't have yelled at Schultz; the guard was only trying to help. Besides, Klink _was _starting to get slightly hungry. He hadn't eaten since Kätzchen had run off, because he had been too upset about the kitten's disappearance to even think about food.

Klink was still upset – make no mistake about it – and he knew it would be a long time before he would really get over the loss of Kätzchen, but he also knew it was time he should start trying to return to normal life. He couldn't mope around, ignoring everyone and everything, _and _avoid going to the Russian Front, all at the same time.

Klink gave up the search for the time being and headed out of his bedroom, intending to find Schultz and get his lunch back. He didn't have to look very far, however: Schultz was sitting at Klink's table, tucking a napkin under his chin and getting ready to start into Klink's lunch.

"SCHULTZ!"

* * *

><p>The kitten hopped over a small log that was in his way and continued on his chosen path; and his little heart leaped as he saw the sun shining off the barbed wire up ahead. Pausing at the top of the ridge at the edge of the woods, Kätzchen felt a surge of pride looking down at the camp. <em>His <em>camp. And nothing was ever going to make him leave it again.

* * *

><p>Klink huffed as he watched Schultz evacuate the chair quickly and hurry out the door. Settling down in the now-empty chair, Klink reached for his fork.<p>

* * *

><p>Hogan leaned casually against the barracks, as he waited for LeBeau to attempt to make some more <em>Boeuf Bourguignon <em>from the meager supply of food he had to work from. Kinch had been out here with him, discussing an upcoming mission, but the sergeant had gone back inside a few minutes ago. No doubt to listen to the very entertaining discussion between LeBeau and Newkirk about the difference of _Boeuf Bourguignon _from Beef stew.

The American Colonel's gaze drifted around the compound, pausing when his eyes fell on the very amusing sight of Langenscheidt being dragged by Blümchen down the length of the fence as she caught sight of a rabbit.

So he didn't notice at first the small meow which came floating up from beside his foot. It was only when the kitten placed a paw on Hogan's ankle that he finally glanced down.

And he promptly did a double take.

"Kätzchen?" Hogan asked, in slight disbelief. "You're back!"

The kitten just meowed once, and made a point of sniffing the aroma of _Bourguignon _that was wafting out of the barracks.

"Ah," Hogan smiled, as he realized what the kitten wanted. "Well, let's go inside and get you fed, and then you can go back to Klink," he told the kitten, as he scooped him up and turned to carry him inside the barracks.

* * *

><p>After the kitten had been given a portion of the stew, and LeBeau had insisted on cleaning Kätzchen up, (the kitten had <em>not <em>liked getting wet, _again,_ though) Hogan carried him toward Klink's quarters.

Once there, he knocked on the door, and grinned as he shifted his hold on the kitten so he could hold him securely behind his back.

Upon hearing "come in", Hogan entered, and saw Klink at his table finishing his lunch. "Hi, Colonel!"

"Yes, Hogan?" Klink asked, looking mildly perturbed at Hogan's disturbing his lunch.

"I think I might've found something that belongs to you, Kommandant," Hogan said, mildly.

"Like what?" Klink asked, somewhat warily.

"Like… this?" Hogan answered dramatically, bringing his hands out from behind his back, and holding out Kätzchen.

Klink's eyes went round in disbelief, and his monocle fell out; but he didn't reach down to pick it up, instead, his attention was on Kätzchen. It took him a moment to find his voice.

"Kätzchen!" Klink exclaimed, his eyes lighting up, and a grin spreading across his face.

The kitten, recognizing Klink, gave a meow of joy and leaped from Hogan's arms straight into Klink's.

Klink caught the kitten and beamed delightedly as he held him close. "You came back…" he murmured softly into Kätzchen's fur.

Watching, Hogan knew there had to be some rule against an American Officer standing in the middle of a German Kommandant's quarters wearing a sappy grin, but in this particular case, it was forgivable.

* * *

><p><em>Oh, and snooky-9093, I hope you don't mind me taking Blümchen out for a walk. I just couldn't resist... ;-)<em>


	7. No Way Out

_A/N: So my dog's doing better now (Praise the Lord!) and I finally got to write more of this. But now I've got a cold. :-/ Well, at least it gives me time to go on an HH episode marathon! So now I've got a bunch of different plot bunnies running around in my head... and not just for HH either... there's a ST: TOS one that's just begging to be written..._  
><em>Anyway, thanks everyone that's read and reviewed so far! I hope you continue to enjoy this story!<em>

_Kitten's age in this chapter: Four - five months old.**  
><strong>_

* * *

><p>Klink placed his chess board on the small table in the corner of his office, and then glanced at his watch and frowned. <em>I guess being on time is another thing those Americans can't do right, <em>Klink mused. As he righted a rook that had fallen in the journey to the table, Klink glanced over at his office chair, where Kätzchen lay, fast asleep.

Klink once again breathed a short prayer of relief that his kitten had been returned to him, safe and sound.

At that moment, the door burst open rather unceremoniously. "Hi Colonel! Sorry I'm late; I was detained at the escape committee meeting. Y'know, tonight was a record for escape requests! We had over a hundred; and that included the eighty from the guards."

"Hogan…" Klink warned, raising his fist.

Hogan flashed him a cheeky grin and settled into one of the chairs in front of the small table. "Hey, weren't you white last time?" he protested, noticing the color of the chess pieces on his side of the table.

"It's my game, I get to decide which side I want," Klink snapped curtly, sitting down across from Hogan, and moving his pawn out.

Hogan moved his knight and leaned back in his chair. "Schultz bring your supper yet?" he asked, yawning.

"I've already eaten. I've started noticing that parts of my dinner mysteriously disappear whenever I eat it while we're playing chess," Klink replied, giving Hogan a suspicious glance, before returning to studying the board.

"Oh. You think Kätzchen might be stealing from you?"

"He wouldn't do that," Klink disagreed, sliding his bishop across the board.

"Hey!" Hogan yelped, as Klink triumphantly swiped Hogan's knight and placed it beside the board.

"You're not paying attention, Hogan," Klink admonished.

Hogan replied by scooting his rook across the board, and removed Klink's queen from the board. "Check."

Klink scowled, and then brightened as he used his knight to capture the unfortunate rook. "Well, I took your rook!"

"I'd call that an equitable trade," Hogan pointed out.

Klink ignored that last comment and removed Hogan's rook from the board.

A few minutes later, the game ended abruptly when a curious kitten (who was not all that small anymore) decided to check what the humans were doing up on that table, and scattered the chess pieces all over the two startled players.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Hogan was sitting on his bunk, memorizing a new code book, when Kinch knocked once and entered.<p>

"Burkhalter just drove into camp, Colonel," the sergeant informed him.

"What does _he_ want?" Hogan frowned, closing the book and standing. "Let's listen in."

* * *

><p>Sitting at his desk, Klink scratched his kitten on the head as Kätzchen slept on one corner of Klink's desk. Smiling, Klink returned to his paperwork just as Hilda opened the door and announced Burkhalter's presence.<p>

Klink's eyes widened, and he barely had time to slide the startled kitten into his lap before Burkhalter marched into the room.

"General Burkhalter! What brings you to Stalag 13?" Klink greeted the general, saluting but not standing due to having to hold Kätzchen on his lap under the desk.

"I'm here for the monthly inspection, Klink," Burkhalter replied, clasping his hands behind his back. "And what happened to standing when a superior officer enters the room? Or have you made General yet?" The last was accompanied with a sarcastic smirk.

"Uh, not exactly. You see, I have a… bad back," Klink said, glaring down at Kätzchen with one eye. _The things I have to do for you…_

Burkhalter didn't look convinced.

Suddenly, something occurred to Klink: "Wait a minute, General; you were here for your monthly inspection last week."

"I know. But I have been informed I must make another monthly inspection," Burkhalter replied, sighing and gesturing towards the doorway.

Klink turned to look, and the sight chilled him to the bone.

Standing in the doorway was Gertrude Linkmeyer.

* * *

><p>"Hey, something happen to the connection?" Hogan tapped the coffeepot a couple times, upon hearing dead silence for a moment or two.<p>

"There shouldn't be anything wrong," Kinch replied, leaning forward to examine it.

"Oh, wait a minute, it's working again," Hogan said, settling back onto his chair.

* * *

><p>"Well, Klink, you look surprised to see me," Gertrude commented, stepping into the room and removing her gloves.<p>

"Uhhh," Klink gulped before continuing, "Yes, but it's a very pleasant surprise!"

"Danke, Klink," Gertrude smiled.

"We will be staying in the guest quarters, Klink. Make sure they are ready for us," Burkhalter ordered, taking Gertrude's arm as they turned to leave.

"Certainly, sir," Klink replied, saluting.

"Oh, try to do something about your back, Klink. If you don't, I know of a great back doctor you will need to see," Burkhalter said, pausing in the doorway.

"Oh?"

"Yes. His office is in an igloo and his name is Ivan." With that, Burkhalter and Gertrude swept out the door.

Klink gulped again. This was _not_ shaping up to be a very enjoyable few days.

* * *

><p>Hogan grinned and pulled the plug on the coffeepot. "Well, ol' Klink's in trouble again."<p>

Kinch chuckled. "You can say that again."

* * *

><p>That evening, Klink rose from his chair after finishing the last report for the day and put on his coat, whereupon he bent down to allow Kätzchen to jump on his shoulder, and they headed out the door and towards his quarters.<p>

Klink was relieved that General Burkhalter or Frau Linkmeyer hadn't come to his office again after they had arrived and invited him to dinner or invited themselves to his evening meal. But he still couldn't imagine why Gertrude had taken a sudden interest in him again. It's not like he had mentioned her to Burkhalter on his last visit or anything.

Klink frowned and headed up the steps to his quarters.

He was _not_ expecting to walk in and see a table with two candles perched atop it, two plates and two sets of silverware, LeBeau standing next to a tray full of French cuisine, and Gertrude smiling coyly at him from behind one of the chairs.

"What's going _on _here?" Klink asked, his voice rising in panic on the last word.

"Frau Linkmeyer requested I cook a dinner for the two of you, Kommandant," LeBeau replied.

"That's right," Gertrude said, still smiling. "Sergeant Schultz told me what time you were going to be done working. I'm sure we will enjoy a nice, quiet, candlelight dinner. Just the two of us. Right, Wilhelm?"

Klink shot a death glare at Schultz, who was standing in the corner of the room. And then he realized what Gertrude had called him. _Wilhelm? _He gulped. "Right, Frau Linkmeyer."

"Gertrude," she corrected. Then her eyes narrowed. "What's that on your shoulder, Wilhelm?"

"Uh, that's Kätzchen. He's my cat," Klink said, realizing there was no way out of explaining the kitten to her.

"Well, make sure it doesn't get too close to me," Gertrude replied, eyeing the kitten suspiciously. "I don't want it to scratch me."

"_It's_ a _he_, and he won't scratch you if you as long as you're nice to him," Klink stated brusquely, reaching up to remove Kätzchen from his shoulders and set him on the floor. The kitten scampered over toward LeBeau, who smiled at him and handed him a small piece of chateaubriand before serving the rest to Klink and Frau Linkmeyer.

* * *

><p>The dinner had gone reasonably well: Gertrude had done most of the talking, rattling on about this or that, so Klink had just sat there, sipping his wine and eating his food. But once the dessert had been served, and eaten, and LeBeau and Schultz had retreated to the kitchen to clean up, Klink started to get nervous.<p>

"Come over here, Wilhelm. The dinner's over; you don't need to stay at the table," said Gertrude, as she sat down at one corner of the couch.

Klink rose reluctantly, and then seated himself at the opposite end of the couch. Gertrude frowned, and scooted a little closer, much to Klink's chagrin.

"I guess you're wondering why I decided to visit again, Klink," Gertrude began, crossing her legs.

"Well, yes. I was wondering," Klink replied, hesitantly.

"Well, after losing Wolfgang a few months ago – you remember Major Karp* – I thought that I shouldn't pursue anyone for awhile. That's why even though Albert had me have dinner with you a couple times after that, I didn't want to start anything serious for a time. But, that's all in the past, now. So, here I am!" Gertrude finished, slapping Klink on the knee.

Klink looked slightly nauseated. "Yes." He chuckled nervously. "You are here."

"Well, now that we've got that cleared up…"

Klink cleared his throat hastily. "Frau Linkmeyer, it really is getting late. Shouldn't you be getting back to the guest quarters?"

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" Gertrude questioned suspiciously.

"_Nein, nein_ – but it is getting late, and you must be getting back, or people might start talking!" Klink exclaimed, emphatically.

"Hmm. _Ja, _you might be right," Gertrude replied, rising and heading for the door. "That's good! I like a man who's concerned about his reputation!"

"Oh, you do," Klink said dejectedly. "Well, I'll walk you to your quarters."

"No need, Wilhelm. I'll just say goodnight here," Gertrude said, gathering her coat and purse. She paused by the door. "Goodnight, Wilhelm."

"_Gute Nacht, _Frau Linkmeyer," Klink responded, opening the door, and holding it open for her.

"It's Gertrude."

"Gertrude," Klink reluctantly corrected, before clicking his heels and gesturing out the door.

Gertrude smiled, but didn't budge from her position by the door. "Haven't you forgotten something?"

"Me? I haven't forgotten anything," Klink replied, puzzled.

Gertrude answered by turning her head slightly so that her cheek faced Klink.

Klink suddenly realized what she wanted. Gulping for the fourth time that day, (and probably not for the last time in these coming days) he braced himself, leaned forward, and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

Gertrude gave him a sour look before shrugging it off and heading out the door. "See you tomorrow, Wilhelm."

"_Ja_, see you tomorrow…" Klink's voice trailed off as he shut the door. Turning, he noticed Kätzchen sitting a short distance away. He chuckled humorlessly. "Humph. Just when I think she's forgotten all about me, she shows up again to threaten marriage. And her brother threatens the Russian Front if I don't. There's no way out!"

Kätzchen padded over to him and placed a paw on his ankle as he meowed once, as if to say, _You just let me take care of her…_

* * *

><p><em>*Major Wolfgang Karp appeared in season 6's "Kommandant Gertrude" as Gertrude's fiancé. But you all know how that turned out. ;-)<em>


	8. An Equitable Trade

_A/N: Feel free to give me suggestions as to what you'd like to see here, in either a PM or a review. I'm starting to run out of ideas, after eight chapters; there's only so much I can think of to do with Kätzchen.  
>I might update this story a little less frequently (like every two-three weeks instead of every week) so I can devote more time to other stories I want to do. Right now, this is taking up a majority of my writing time.<br>_

_What do y'all think?_

_Also, to answer a guest review, I will say that by now, Kätzchen is supposed to be an older kitten, like around four or five months. I haven't really made that clear so far; I think I'll put a little note above each chapter giving the age of the kitten._  
><em>And thanks! Your input is appreciated. :-)<em>**  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>Hauptmann <em>Fritz Gruber, Klink's adjutant at Stalag 13, strode quickly across the compound early the next morning, after tagging along with Schultz as the Sergeant of the Guard checked to make sure all guards were at their assigned posts.

As he walked towards the _Kommandantur _to report their findings to Klink_, _Gruber thought back to the previous day when that lady had arrived… what was her name again? Ah, yes; Gertrude Linkmeyer. The General's sister. Klink had mentioned her to Gruber before, and not in an admiring way. Gruber didn't really know what the big deal was about Frau Linkmeyer, and why every officer in the _Luftwaffe _seemed to be afraid of getting married off to her. She wasn't _that _bad; he'd seen worse.

Approaching the door of his destination, Gruber was startled as the very person he had been thinking about appeared next to him, also intent on seeing the Kommandant.

He was just about to give her a cheery "good morning" when Klink's kitten came darting out of nowhere and tripped Frau Linkmeyer.

"Oh!" Gertrude cried, as she fell sideways and crashed into him.

Gruber kept his footing and helped Gertrude regain her balance. He glared at where Kätzchen was last, but the kitten had already – wisely – made a quick exit. "Are you alright, Frau Linkmeyer?"

"_Ja, _I'm fine," Gertrude replied, attempting to fix the strands of hair that had come loose from her bun in the fall. From the look in her face, though, Gruber decided that the cat had definitely made a wise decision by leaving so quickly.

Personally, he had never seen what Klink liked about that cat; he'd take a nice, loyal German shepherd dog over a cat any day.

* * *

><p>Klink sighed as he looked at the mound of paperwork in front of him. It was hard concentrating on keeping away from Frau Linkmeyer <em>and <em>running a prison camp. (And not just any POW camp; the toughest one in Germany.)

Klink took a report off the top of the stack and started working on it; but before he got very much done, he was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Come in!"

"_Guten Morgen, _Klink!" Gertrude said, sweeping into the room, all smiles.

Klink dug his pencil into the paper upon hearing her voice, and the tip promptly broke off. He raised the pencil to squint at it with his monocled eye. He must get some better pencils; these broke too easily.

Glancing up, he noticed that Gertrude wasn't the only one that had entered the room; his adjutant Gruber had also come in and was currently standing towards the back of the room. "_Guten Morgen, _Frau Linkmeyer. And you too, Gruber. Are all the guards at their posts?"

"Yes, _Herr Kommandant," _Gruber answered.

"Good. Dismissed!"

"_Jawhol, Herr Kommandant,"_ Gruber said, saluting, before clicking his heels at Frau Linkmeyer and exiting the room.

"I just came to ask if you would join the General and me for lunch in the guest quarters," Gertrude explained.

"Oh… um, of course, Frau Linkmeyer!" Klink chuckled nervously. "_Danke schoen!" _

"Good. Well, see you then, Wilhelm!" Gertrude said, opening the door and waving a quick goodbye to Klink as she walked out.

After the door closed, Klink sat in silence for a moment. Then he sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat, and went back to his paperwork.

But unknown to him, an orange cat was watching him intently from outside on the window sill…

* * *

><p>Lunchtime found Klink reluctantly seated in the guest quarters at Gertrude and General Burkhalter's table.<p>

"Tell me, Wilhelm: who was that nice officer that was in your office this morning?" Gertrude questioned, buttering her bread.

"Oh, that was my adjutant, _Hauptmann _Gruber," Klink replied, around a mouthful of food, which he quickly swallowed as Burkhalter fixed a pointed glare on him.

"Mm," was Gertrude's only answer.

Klink reached for his coffee cup; but, as he did, Kätzchen jumped in his lap, jolting his arm and almost causing him to overturn the cup.

"Klink, who let a cat in here?" Burkhalter asked, obviously annoyed with the kitten's presence.

"He must have followed me in when I came in," Klink said, placing Kätzchen back down on the floor.

"Why would that cat follow you around?" Burkhalter wondered, eyebrows knitting together.

"Oh… uhh, yes. Um, Kätzchen is my cat," Klink explained, realizing that Burkhalter hadn't known about the kitten.

"_Your _cat? Klink, are you forgetting this is a prison camp?"

"Heh heh. No, I'm not forgetting; this is the toughest POW camp in Germany!"

"Please Klink, let's not go through that again," said Burkhalter, rubbing the sides of his head.

"Oh, are you getting another one of your headaches, General? If so, I have just the remedy – " Klink was interrupted by a thoroughly exasperated Burkhalter.

"I _know _what the remedy is, Klink – and it involves getting as far away from Stalag 13 as possible."

A petulant expression formed on Klink's face as he went back to his meal; but the silence was interrupted by an abrupt sneeze from Gertrude's section of the table.

"Gesundheidt!" Burkhalter and Klink said in unison.

"_Danke… _ah, ah, ACHOO!" Gertrude sneezed again, turning away from the table.

After a few more repetitions of sneeze-gesundheidt-sneeze-gesundheit, Gertrude fled the room, sneezing all the way, leaving a slightly worried Burkhalter and a puzzled Klink.

"I wonder what brought that on," Burkhalter mused, still leaning over the back of his chair, looking at the door that Gertrude had disappeared into.

"It certainly is unusual. You think she could be catching a cold?" Klink wondered, scratching his head.

"I'm not sure," Burkhalter replied, turning back to the table. Then he caught sight of the kitten, still sitting next to Gertrude's chair. "I wonder…"

But he didn't have time to finish his thought, as Gertrude re-entered the room just then. "I have no idea what caused that! It stopped just as quickly as it started," she informed them, coming to the table, and sitting back down in her chair.

"Gertrude, are you allergic to cat hair?" Burkhalter questioned, looking suspiciously at Kätzchen.

Gertrude looked puzzled. "I didn't think so." She looked about to say something else, but was cut off by another giant sneeze, and scurried out of the room.

Burkhalter nodded confidently. "Klink, take that cat out of here."

"Surely, General Burkhalter, you don't think that Kätzchen is causing this?" Klink stuttered.

"Of course. What else could it be?" Burkhalter said, standing. "If you do not remove it from the room, I will."

Klink rose quickly and reached for Kätzchen. "No, I'll do it." Klink crossed to the door carrying the kitten, and then gently deposited him just outside the door. "I'll be right out, Kätzchen."

Returning to the table, Klink noticed that Gertrude had now come back out, and Burkhalter was explaining the situation to her. She nodded in understanding and turned to Klink.

"Well, Klink. It appears that I am allergic to cats," Gertrude said. "That means the cat must go."

Klink froze. To her credit, Gertrude looked apologetic; but there was no way he was giving up Kätzchen! "I can't do that!"

Burkhalter narrowed his eyes. "You _will _do it. How do you expect Gertrude to manage around here with that cat also here?"

"Well, um," Klink swallowed, and summoned his courage before continuing. "I guess she won't be able to manage here, then."

Gertrude looked taken aback, and Burkhalter just looked furious. When he spoke, his words were icy. "So you are saying you would rather have your _cat _–" Burkhalter spat the word disgustedly, "– instead of my sister."

Klink's silence spoke more than words could. Inside, Klink was a quivering mass of nerves, but he attempted to maintain a courageous front in front of Burkhalter, and failed miserably.

"KLINK! HOW DARE YOU! I WILL HAVE YOU AT THE RUSSIAN FRONT EVEN IF I HAVE TO MARCH YOU THERE _PERSONALLY _AT GUNPOINT!"

Klink winced, and shrunk back in fear. "General, I – I –"

"Don't bother explaining yourself, Klink; you have already made yourself perfectly clear," Burkhalter spat. The general looked about to say something more, but was interrupted by the appearance of Gruber, who entered the guest quarters after knocking once.

"Kommandant, there is a Colonel calling for you, about those supplies you ordered last w…" Gruber trailed off as he noticed Burkhalter's expression. Glancing at Klink, who had been in the process of backing into the wall, Gruber gulped and started withdrawing towards the door.

"_Ein moment," _Gertrude stopped Gruber in his retreat; walking up to him, she paused in front of him and looked at him thoughtfully. "Gruber… do you like cats?"

He was _not _expecting that. "Well, not really, Frau Linkmeyer. I prefer dogs."

Gertrude smiled, and threaded her arm through Gruber's as she led him out the door. "Well, then, it appears we have something in common."

"Apparently so," Gruber said, also smiling. "What else do you like?"

And so the two headed out the door, conversing all the way. Burkhalter turned to Klink, who was currently gaping at the way Gruber had seemed to genuinely like Gertrude. "Well, it seems as though Gertrude has found someone else she likes more."

Klink, while part of him was glad, also felt a tiny twinge of jealously at the quick way Gertrude had transferred her attentions onto Gruber. "Yes. It would seem so."

"Frankly, I am glad. Captain Gruber is a fine officer – I would much prefer to have _him_ as a brother-in-law," Burkhalter said, bouncing once on the balls of his feet.

Klink frowned, then brightened. "Does that mean I will be staying on here at Stalag 13?!"

Burkhalter raised an eyebrow as he thought for a moment. "Well, since this caused Gertrude to realize Gruber would be better for her, and since no other Kommandant can match your record, and the Fuehrer wouldn't like me transferring you and then having prisoners escape... I suppose you can stay," Burkhalter said, finishing slightly reluctantly.

Klink bristled with pride. "Thank you, Herr General! And I will maintain the rigid discipline that has kept my no-escape record intact; there has never been an escape from Stalag 13, and there never will be!"

"Klink."

"Yes, Herr General?"

"Shut. Up."

"… Yes sir."

After successfully shutting Klink up, Burkhalter rubbed his forehead. "I need some fresh air."

* * *

><p>Once Burkhalter had left, Klink turned to his kitten, who had snuck back in when Gruber had entered. "Kätzchen, you saved me!" Klink exclaimed, scooping up the cat and holding him close. Kätzchen squirmed slightly, and Klink loosened his embrace a little. "Oh, sorry, <em>meine Katze.<em>"

At that moment, Hogan came through the door. "I thought I'd find you here, Kommandant; did you know that Gertrude Linkmeyer is walking around the compound with Captain Gruber, arm in arm, and she keeps giving him _adoring _looks?"

"No, but it figures," Klink grumbled.

"So what happened? I thought she was busy mooning over you!"

Klink gave Hogan a brief account of what had happened. When he reached the part where he had told Burkhalter that he was not giving up Kätzchen, Hogan looked surprised.

"You actually risked getting sent to the Russian Front just to keep Kätzchen?" The American colonel asked, incredulously.

Upon hearing it phrased like that, Klink seemed to suddenly realize what a close call that had been; he sunk down into the nearest chair, looking drained. "…Um, I guess I did…"

Hogan shook his head, slightly amazed at the deep affection Klink had for his kitten. "Well, that was a very brave thing you did, Kommandant."

"Yeah, I guess it was…" Klink replied, stuttering slightly as he thought about what might have happened. Abruptly he reached for a wine bottle sitting on the table, and he poured himself an ounce of courage and gulped it down.

"Well, you lost Gertrude, but got to keep Kätzchen _and _Stalag 13!"

Klink stared at his empty glass for a moment, and then raised his eyes to meet Hogan's. "I'd call that an equitable trade."

Hogan chuckled as he remembered saying those very words to Klink two days ago. "At least she seems happy with Gruber."

"I hope she will be," Klink replied, honestly.

Hogan reached for a glass, and poured himself some wine; then raised it in the direction of the compound, where he knew Gertrude and Gruber were. "Here's to lovers."

"To lovers," Klink echoed, also raising his glass. "And to their happiness."


End file.
